Invincible
by WYSIWYG
Summary: The Enterprise finds the last survivor from a great warship, but they are in for a far bigger revalation than first meets the eye


Disclaimer: I have no money and I desire no earthly object. Enterprise, Star trek, it is all wonderful but it doesn't belong to me. No money is made here. No money whatsoever. So there.

A/N I've only seen the first few episodes of Enterprise, so if there is something that is mistaken I will apologise. Let me know what you think. Should I continue? 

            **Invincible**

            Reed sat back in his seat, his eyes rising from the tactical console to the main viewscreen in front of him, watching the thin streaks of light fly past the ship as it hurtled through space. He tilted his head back further and let out a long yawn, taking the opportunity to stretch his tired arms as well. He rubbed his eyes before looking back down at his various displays. He sighed and glanced over more various technical reports and paperwork that his position as tactical and armoury officer required him to look through and sign.

            He raised his head again and looked at Travis tapping his fingers on the helm controls as he gazed, almost trance like, at the view ahead. He started humming a song that Reed didn't recognise, and glanced over his shoulder to look back at Reed. Reed gave a small nod of acknowledgement and smiled slightly.

            "Travis, just how long is it till we reach this place?"  He said, sounding slightly sluggish.

            "Six days, three hours and twenty-four minutes." Travis replied curtly, after a quick glance at his console. "And absolutely nothing between here and Or'galon."

            "Six days, five more night watches, god this is boring." Reed yawned again. "I wouldn't honestly mind if a few Klingons showed up, at least it would give us something to do." Reed rested his head in his hands, and looked again at the viewscreen. "Coffee Travis?"

            "No thanks."

            "Suit yourself." Reed stretched again before rising from his seat. "Just yell if something happens." He walked across the bridge and out through the sliding doors. They closed with a whirr and Reed went down to the mess hall. Two minutes later he returned to the bridge, coffee in hand. He returned to his seat, took a sip of his drink, and got back to work again.

            Him and Travis were the only bridge officers on duty during the "nightshift", the time when most of the crew rested. It was a boring job most of the time, and that feeling was even more acute by the fact that there was nothing, no planets, no comets, no stars, no anything between here and Or'galon, a small star that wasn't on the Vulcan star charts and so warranted an investigation.

            Reed ploughed through his paperwork as Travis ran a few checks on the propulsion drives and started humming again. Ten uneventful minutes passed, Travis was on his fifth tune whilst Reed was finishing off the last of his coffee. Travis stopped humming suddenly, and Reed looked up in mild surprise. He heard another noise, a continuous beeping from the comm. console. He got up again and walked over, and peered at the display.

            "Travis, it's a distress call! Bearing 170-069. Make the course change, I'll call the captain." Reed activated the intercom on the console. "Captain sir, we need you on the bridge, we've…" He stopped as sounds of struggling, dull thuds and dog barks filled the channel. After a minute the captain replied.

            "Yes, Malcolm, sorry, trip over the damn dog. What's the situation?"

            "Sir, we're picking up a distress call, but I can't identify the source. I've got Travis to lay in the course and we have a current ETA of four minutes sir." Reed peered up from the console to stare out the viewscreen again.

            "Okay Malcolm, wake the others, I'll be on the bridge in a minute. Archer out." Malcolm changed the channel and woke the other main bridge officers before returning to his own station. He sat down as the captain arrived the bridge.

            "So what else has turned up Malcolm?" He said as he sat down in his chair.

            "Not much more sir, we'll need T'Pol and Hoshi to have a look at the signal. It appears that either the ship is badly damaged or on limited power. The signal is very weak and I cannot discern any understandable dialogue from the initial message." Reed ran a few scans through his own equipment. "Captain, I'm picking up some form of energy distortion around the source. It doesn't seem to conform to any known source of power."

            "Goddamnit, it never seems to be a "known" source." The captain turned to see Hoshi, who was rapidly zipping up the front of her jumpsuit, and T'Pol, unflappable as ever, arrive on the bridge. "You two see what you can find out." The two women quickly manned their respective stations and began analysing the transmission through their displays.

            After a minute of impatient foot tapping by the captain Hoshi looked up.

            "Captain, I think I may have roughly what is being said. It is in English, and on a standard wavelength. Hang on, I'm going to run it through one more filter then I'll play what I've got." She pressed a few more keys, and then transmitted the message over the bridge speakers. Through them came a crackling, scratchy sound, and then there was a thin, weak voice saying something hurriedly. 

            "_This is……Campbell, I've…attacked, we were board……don't know if…The Invincible was des…_" The message fizzled out.

            "Hoshi, is there any more?" Asked Archer, walking up to peer over her shoulder at her display screen.

            "It's one message, being repeated every thirty seconds, I can't get any better resolution captain." Archer turned to T'Pol. 

            "What have you got?" He asked.

            "Captain, I've got a positive lock on the craft. There is one human life sign aboard, and the materials appear to be Terran, but the construction is, well, unusual." The captain raised an eyebrow at the impassive Vulcan.

            "Unusual?"

            "It is incredibly well constructed, there is no signs of sealing or exterior work. The hull seems to be a single piece of the same material. The material itself is also unusual. It appears to be giving what appear to be biological life signs."

            "What?" Archer took a step back.

            "I can't compare it captain. The hull is solid metal and yet it behaves in some ways like…an epidermis, skin, captain." Archer stared at the Vulcan, and then turned to Reed. 

            "Malcolm, what human ships have carried the name Invincible since first contact?"

            "Only one sir. The S.S Invincible, an Outreach class colony transport. It was scrapped four years ago." Reed looked at Archer, who was now sitting back in his chair. "Travis, how long till we have a visual?"

            "Still about a minute sir." Suddenly Hoshi turned in her seat.

            "Captain! I think I may have been to improve the message." The captain turned in his seat he could look at Hoshi, who was frantically pressing various keys once more. 

            "How?"

            "Well sir, although the other words have been corroded, their basic phonetic structure, syllable context and approximate length can still be roughly made out. I've crossed check it with the Standard English database and I think I may have got something."

            "Okay Hoshi, lets listen." Hoshi pressed another key and the voice returned.

            "_This is Admiral Chris Campbell, I've been adrift…four days. My ship, the HMCS Invincible was attacked, we were boarded when our shields failed…I don't know if there…any more survivors…scans can't pick up any…life signs near me… I need rescue…The Invincible was destroyed. I'm alone. I need help. If anybody hears this please…me…_" The message was cut out again. The bridge crew stared at each other.

            "Captain," yelled Travis, "he's coming into visual range."

            "On screen." The viewscreen changed from its usual starry view to centre on the vessel where the distress call had arisen. It was about twenty metres long, dark green in colour, with an arrow shaped head attached to a streamlined body, with swept back biplane wings that curved and joined together at their apex, around the casings of what were obviously engines. Three lights, a white one on the nose and a green and red light on their respective wing were the only sign of activity, the engines were not running, leaving the craft drifting in space. Black marks across the surface seemed to suppose light damage, though the craft appeared to remain in a stable condition.

            "T'Pol?"

            "Yes captain?"

            "What is that?"

            "I do not know, the vessel isn't in any of our records." The captain sighed.

            "Well, what can you tell me about it?" Archer muttered, gazing at the strange craft as it slowly turned on its pitch.

            "It's a warship, it seems, some sort of strike craft. Internal scans reveal an impressive array of weapons."

            "Could it threaten the Enterprise?"

            "Sir, it could threaten Starfleet. It appears to be carrying eight large projectiles, each carrying four kilograms of silicon antimatter. Sir, each one of these could obliterate this starship and any other ship in the vicinity with ease." Reed coughed uncomfortably. Archer turned to him.

            "Sir, wouldn't it be wise to keep our distance? Send a shuttle pod to see that this isn't a trap." Archer turned back to T'Pol. The Vulcan replied almost immediately.

            "Each of these projectiles appears to have its own faster-than-light power plant. I don't think we could outrun them, judging by these power readings on our sensors. Captain, I, I believe that, despite its human passenger that this craft must belong to a far more advanced race. Sir, there is technology that is a hundred years ahead of Vulcan science onboard that ship, the schematics, the technologies, the whole structure is just so finely developed, so intricate and yet almost indestructibly strong. I mean, we could sit here and fire off all our torpedoes at the target, and I doubt we would leave a scratch." She looked up and stared at the ship on the main viewscreen, her eyes gazing at the slowly twisting craft as it drifted serenely in space.  "Captain, if it is a trap, we already have no way out. We may as well proceed."

            Archer looked at her, and then turned to the rest of the bridge crew.

            "Well, we here, and we've got a job to do. Reed, get the craft secured with the grappling lines. Travis, T'Pol, you're with me in shuttle pod one." 


End file.
